Playing on the song of this summer, it always feels like there is one endless supply of summer time, or in this case summer thyme. It sprawls out ahead of us, with no end in sight, unfurling in bloom and herbal freshness.
A carpet of thyme, especially in bloom, is a charm that may be found at the edge of a meadow, or the neglected patch of a parking lot divider. Brushing through its mat of pungent leaves, I sense the memory of a spice cupboard surfacing, bringing back fall and winter at a most inopportune moment. This is summer – and it’s only just begun.
